


Versailles for Sore Eyes

by StoryTimeTheCreed



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Assassin's Creed: Unity, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, Post-Assassin's Creed: Unity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 19:16:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21481468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoryTimeTheCreed/pseuds/StoryTimeTheCreed
Summary: (Y/N) has returned to Paris to find France and it's inhabitants forever changed.
Relationships: Arno Dorian/Greencoat, Arno Dorian/Icecream, Axeman & Arno Dorian, Axeman (Assassin's Creed)/Original Character, Axeman (Assassin's Creed)/Reader, Axeman/Arno Dorian, Axeman/Greencoat, Axeman/Icecream (Assassin's Creed), Greencoat (Assassin's Creed)/Reader, Greencoat/Icecream (Assassin's Creed), Icecream (Assassin's Creed)/Reader
Kudos: 4





	Versailles for Sore Eyes

Phillip Blanc was the first Assassin she met when she'd visited France all those years ago, so it made sense that he'd be the one to pick her up from the dock. France looked as it had when she'd visited the first time, only now an air of sorrow, or loss, hung heavy. That mixed with the smell of the sea, the smell of death and rot from streets littered with shit, and the unwashed masses. If Phillip noticed the expression that flashed on her face, then he didn't express it. Instead, he took her into his arms and kissed both her cheeks. La bise. She'd forgotten about that. 

"Phillip!" He took her bags, and she allowed him to, knowing better than to fight him on the matter. "It's so good to see you. You look well."

"Merci, (Y/N), you as well. Come, we'll have time to talk once we're indoors. It's rather chilly." He smiled and opened the door of the carriage for her. The weather felt fine, it was the smell that bothered her the most, but if Phillip thought it best to go to ground then that was what they would do. The ride to the church was filled with white noise. He'd asked about her time in the American Brotherhood, she'd told him she'd had a grand time. She asked him how he was, he said fine. The whole conversation was strange. Phillip Blanc never needed prodding into a conversation, yet there he sat, paler than usual, his light brown eyes scanning the streets as they spoke, barely adding fluff to their conversation. Going by the name 'Ghost' during the French Revolution, he wore a light hood and was the master of distance assassination. Phillip had shown her the ropes when she first visited the French Brotherhood during their time of need with information from Master Kenway, advice on how to best utilize their revolution and how to remain atop it. Through Phillip, she'd met Gerard LaHache, the Axeman; Demetri Rigotto, Greencoat; and Arno. Arno had joined later in life, and thus hadn't recieved a nickname. Besides, he'd told her, he had no need for one. The names the men gave themselves hid their true identities during the time of strife as they were considered noblemen and then was not the time for men of their status. There was also the task of protecting their families and loved ones, of which Arno had none remaining, so, he explained, he didn't need a nickname.

The enterance to the Assassin's building was cleaner now, and she stood in awe of it. Stone shone white under the sun, and it stood with such majesty that she paused like she had when she first arrived. Phillip took her bag, thanked the driver, and lead the way chuckling. "Remember the first time you came here?" The memories must have come back to him as well, but there was a sad look in his eye when he looked away from the building and to the rest of the streets. Streets filled with strife, sick, and confusion. Phillip shook his head, and tried to keep the smile on his face. "You were so scared to walk into the building."

"I was scared I was going to get lost, and to be fair I did." They walked into the darkness, down the stairs, made a right. "A kind stranger lead me the right direction."

"Is that why we became friends?" Phillip teased, "Or do you think we would've became friends anyway." They stepped into the light. Assassins watched silently with somber eyes that followed their movements through the space. The place where the Masters stood was empty. (Y/N) couldn't help but admire the beauty of it. She'd told Connor they needed something like this for the American Brotherhood, to which his response was laughter.

They walked somberly past the other Assassins and up to where the stairs to the rooms were. Once out of earshot, she said, "Oh, we definately would've become friends. Troublemakers stick together."

"Who are you calling a troublemaker?" Phillip teased, "I've never gotten in trouble for anything in my life."

"Correction." She reached what would be her room for the next months and took her bag from Phillip. Throwing it on the bed, she closed the door. "Haven't gotten caught." 

"Never will." There were steps by her room that lead up to the bell tower. Technically not in use, it was a place of congregation moreso Leaps of Faith, and the gang often met here after battles, patrol, or late at night when they just needed to talk. It had become a safe space for them. High above the rest of the world and with only one door as enterance and exit, they were guaranteed privacy. This was where he would talk, she knew, and the sooner the better. "So, really, how have you been?" She asked once they reached the bell tower. 

The view took her breath away. From up here, France hid it's injuries and illnesses. The sky was beginning to shift to soft blue, clouds beginning to swirl in delicate patterns. The air was warming from the rising sun, but she still shivered. All this time running on rooftops hadn't cured her completely of her fear of heights. The bell in the middle was large, standing almost as tall as a man and just as wide. If he wanted, Phillip could duck inside and hide. Instead, he ran fingers over it's metallic body.

"Personally, I've been well. France is another matter altogether."

"What of your family? Your brothers and sisters?" Of which he had dozens, and being the middle was often forgotten. The Ghost was a true name for him. Constantly helping his family with no realization that he had. 

"Everyone managed to get out of the city. My older brothers and sisters and their families are running the company in Italy for now; and my younger siblings are with my mother in the countryside visiting more family."

"You didn't go with them?" She traced the bell as he did until their paths ended with them facing each other. A small frown on his lips, Phillip shrugged, then pushed away from the bell to stand watching France. 

"Too much work needs to be done here. My family will be ok, and my work is here. Besides," A glimmer of his former self shimmered in his light eyes. "Couldn't have the rest of the Frenchmen have you all to themselves, now could I? When I was the one who introduced you to the group."

She stood by his side and watched as he did. "And I've thanked you dozens of times. What more do you need?"

He teased, "Help mend France and that should do it."

"No pressure then." With a roll of her eyes, she met him head on. "What of the others? Will they be joining us?"

"Any minute now." Phillip assured her. "Best get used to the quiet while we have it."

Phillip being right was the bane of her existence. Thunderous steps a few minutes later cut their conversation short. They'd taken to sitting on the ledge, Phillip drangling his legs outside the tower and her keeping hers in when the door opened. 

Gerard's bellowing voice filled the air and he opened his arms for a hug. "Madamiesolle (Y/N), you've returned to us at last." (Y/N) strode over to him and Demetri, ducking under Gerard's arm, reached her first. La bise to each cheek, four times in all because he could get away with it, Demetri smirked over his shoulder. Gerard rolled his eyes and gave her a hug. Thank god too because Demetri's new, tight beard itched her face, and Gerard's impressive one would surely leave her raw. It appeared they were catching up to the one Phillip wore.

"It's so good to see you again, Madamiesolle." Demetri gracefully bowed, his arms danced through the air. "Have we missed you."

"Gerard, Demetri! It's so good to see your faces again." (Y/N) released Gerard from her grip and looked him over. "Please, you've got to tell me all that I've missed."

"After you, of course." Gerard said, crossing his arms. Some people thought Gerard looked scary, but she thought he resembled a fit Santa with the way he was always smiling, his hearty laughter, and the twinkle in his eye. Whereas he commanded space and appeared powerful, Demetri was lithe and compact. Still taller and wider than her, but small in comparison to the Frenchman.

Looking over their shoulders to the door, she asked, "Where's Arno?" The group that was all too talkative now became all too silent, and gave one another meaningful looks. "Ah, he's with Elise isn't he? Oh well," Her hands went to her stomach. "I could use some food. Would you like to join me?"

"You haven't fed her yet?" Gerard gave Phillip a disheartened look to which Phillip looked aghast. 

"She hadn't mentioned she was hungry until now."

"Novice." Demetri took her arm and lead her down the stairs. "I know this wonderful place that I'm sure you'll enjoy. You can tell us all about your travels over a hot meal."


End file.
